


bloodless, and thy lady fair

by pearypie



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: 2CT, F/M, Sphere Music Hall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:59:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearypie/pseuds/pearypie
Summary: Golden hair spills from undone twin tails and she looks more mistress than bride as he steals her away, dragging her further into the night.(Where the earl, the rightful earl, needs a kiss of life and chooses Elizabeth to bestow one upon him.)pre-chapter 130





	bloodless, and thy lady fair

When he tilts her chin, fingertips grazing against lotus blossom skin, he feels fire coursing through his empty veins—two souls reawakened beneath the earth’s equator. Elizabeth watches him, eyes so dark and perplexing that he wants to swallow all her thoughts and fill her mind with images of _them,_ together, the way it _should_ have been.

It doesn’t matter that she’s had to weather three years with his lying, treacherous younger brother. No, Ciel decides, it _doesn’t_ because just the touch of her skin—his cold, ivory fingers pressing against soft, warm flesh—makes him remember the vivid experience of being alive. He is struck by the intensity of the world, of being weighted by pressure and gravity and the laws of Newton’s physics. It memorializes this moment—of him, sitting on Lizzy’s bed, of the Sphere Music Hall, of her thin nightgown the color of pale pink begonias.

He moves closer, their breaths mingling together.

She smells of milk and honey and he thinks it fitting that such holy imagery should be presented before him now.

He’s walked every step of the way on this road to calvary and he thinks he’s made a heaven of hell, with the way she’s looking at him now.

“Oh Ciel,” she whispers, flowering and unsure. She’s opening up, just for him, and it fills his head with heady delight—with satisfaction and potent desire that mimics a rush of blood to an open wound. 

There is a madness, he thinks, to kissing and in one fell swoop his mouth comes to meet hers, the force of it pushing her back ever so slightly.

He tilts his head, wanting to see if she can truly breathe life into him—

His hands are on her shoulders, edging closer to her neck, palms grazing her collarbone as he rises. He can feel the sharp, unsteady thrum of her pulse under his palm, how she doesn’t know what to do and he thinks it just fine—

Her first kiss is his, _as it ought to be._

Ciel’s mouth is persistent and Lizzy is pliant—pliant and soft and more than a little confused as she twists away, almost afraid, until he fixes her in place.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs against her lips, deciding that religion and faith could all be believed if only she would stay this way, immortal and golden in his arms. He is beginning to grow warm—his mind hazy but oh so clear. He thinks this is what life must feel like—a strange unbecoming, a shedding of the skin.

Death’s icy grip finally loosens around his neck, he feels oxygen skimming the edge of his lungs—can feel temptation, want, blood, fear. 

So he takes more, kisses with greater intensity because she is burning away the black-lacquered chains around his neck. Lady death is receding as he basks in Lizzy’s sun-fire, as he traces her mouth with his, wanting to memorize her the way cartographers do maps. He wants to discover—to taste, to reap, to rove.

His hands do not stay idle, they seek to touch her fair, exposed skin. Tugs down the translucent chiffon of her nightgown until he presses his hand, his wrist, his forearm, against rose-cream skin that sears away the last vestiges of the reaper's rest. 

Her blunt milk teeth cut into his mouth and she cries out in apology but he wants her to take—to defy the reality of expectation just as he's done. 

Golden hair spills from undone twin tails and she looks more mistress than bride as he steals her away, dragging her further into the night. Ebony ribbons fall from the heavens, tying her down as he leans over her. She is pure and white and all the colors of the sunrise as he sacrifices her to him.

Underneath, Ciel is burning.

Drowning.

Soaked in life's immortal essence. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- “…on this road to calvary” — references the path Christ walked on the way to his crucifixion.
> 
> A/N: Why am I so drawn to dark and twisted relationships?? 
> 
> (Probably because I was listening to the Heathers soundtrack before this XD)


End file.
